


We'll pull through

by Ellstra



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Disabled Character, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 01:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellstra/pseuds/Ellstra
Summary: Kylo wasn't the only one injured on the day Starkiller Base was destroyed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt "Paraplegic" for Kylux cantina. This got out of hand length-wise.

Kylo wakes up hazy and disoriented. His eyelids are heavy, stuck together with dried tears and mucus, and his mind feels like dense syrup. He takes a few more seconds to adjust and allow his sense of reality to kick in before trying to open his eyes.

When he does, there’s a medic watching him, obviously waiting for him to come to himself. She’s holding a datapad and a tonometer, and Kylo wants to go back to sleep at the prospect of talking to her. Answering questions seems like an almost impossible task. 

She doesn’t pressure him into talking, waiting patiently by his bedside. Kylo decides to try to sit up, thinking maybe then he won’t feel as inadequate. He moves gingerly, his limbs aching from disuse but he manages to prop the pillow up behind himself and he leans against the headboard. Then, because he feels silly stalling the medic and she appears to be waiting to talkk to him no matter what, he speaks.

“H-Hello,” he croaks and clears his throat. There’s a lump in it, and he only now realises it’s a little sore. Well. Nothing too bad. 

“Good afternoon,” the medic says, “how do you feel?”

“Out of place.”

“You spent three days in a bacta tank recovering from rather grave injuries. Disorientation is quite common after the treatment. It will pass in a while,” she replies, “do you feel any pain? Discomfort?”

“My throat is a little sore,” Kylo mumbles, “nothing too serious though.”

“We gave you some antibiotics, you didn’t really help yourself with the cold,” she walks closer to him and pulls a chair towards the bed, “Now tell me, Mr Ren, what do you remember?” 

“The scavenger girl and the traitor...FN 2187, they took the lightsaber. My grandfather’s lightsaber. We fought…” Kylo trails off and closes his eyes to fight the violent bursts of memory suffocating him. He sees the hatred in the girl’s eyes, the  _ loathing  _ as if she saw right through him and into his core where she saw his uselessness, his inadequacy. And then, in the middle of pain and terror and self-hate, there’s an angel, a tall dark angel with a blood-red halo and Kylo thinks he’s dead, but he doesn’t complain, not when he has this beauty come for him. “Hux came for me. He  _ came _ .”

Kylo looks up and he almost expects to see Hux stand there by her side. It’s silly of course, and Kylo blinks a few times to dismiss it.

“General Hux located you on the planet,” the medic says when she thinks she has Kylo’s full attention again, “he brought you to the transporter.”

Kylo smiles fondly. He doesn’t care how it happened - Hux came for him and risked his life for him. The idea seems surreal to Kylo. 

“Where is he?” 

“The General is… resting in his quarters,” the medic says. She looks away from Kylo for a little moment. Kylo frowns. She’s hiding something. Kylo considers taking it from her instead of asking but decides against it.

“Resting? In the middle of a shift?” 

There’s a chrono on the bedside table, and Kylo knows Hux should be on the bridge at this time. Not that he isn’t there in the times when he shouldn’t. Kylo often had a feeling he was the only thing between Hux and him perpetually pestering his subordinates. It was a rather romantic, sentimental notion.

“He has sustained several injuries as he came to retrieve you. A tree fell on top of the two of you. He managed to get you out of danger but a branch crushed his spine.”

_ Crushed his spine.  _ That’s a fancy phrase for  _ he’s lucky to be alive.  _

“How bad is it?” Kylo whispers. He doesn’t want to hear it and needs to at the same time. There’s morbid curiosity in him, the perverted side that makes him wonder if it is possible to tear a man’s heart out of his chest and feel it beat, and it comes up with the possible ways this could go. He doesn’t remember the tree the medic is talking about so he supposes he must have been mostly passed out at the time it happened.

“He’s still recovering so we do not know the full extension of the damage to his spinal cord.”

“But it’s damaged,” Kylo says, a little dumbly.

“Yes,” the medic admits, “but let’s talk about you now. I shouldn’t have even told you this.”

Kylo knows she did it on purpose. She must have understood the relationship between him and Hux and seen that he needs to know what happened to Hux… but what was really between them? They had sex every once in a while, and sometimes they spent the night together. Nothing special. They’ve never been on a date. The closest thing to it was Kylo forcing Hux to eat at least twice a day. And yet…

“Is he…” Kylo trails off, the words  _ mad at me  _ dying on his tongue. Of course Hux is mad at him. He went back to save Kylo, and ended up with a broken back while all Kylo has is a sore throat. Kylo hates himself too, so he knows the feeling. 

“Mr Ren, I need you to focus,” the medic says, not unkindly, “I’ll measure your blood pressure now.” 

Kylo nods and offers her his arm. She wraps the cuff around his upper arm and begins pumping air into it. She’s doing it the old fashioned way, listening with a stethoscope instead of the automatic machine. Kylo appreciates it. 

“Your blood pressure is fine,” she pulls the stethoscope out of her ears, “I’ll just listen to your lungs and heart now.” 

Kylo realises only now that he’s wearing the paper-thin hospital gown. He feels irrationally shy all of a sudden, as if various doctors haven’t seen him naked before. The medic seems unfazed. 

“Would you like to put some underwear on?” she asks.

“Uh-uh,” he mutters noncommittally, feeling silly. 

“No problem. I’ll be right back.” 

Kylo is left alone with his thoughts. He tortures his mind to recall the falling tree, recall Hux screaming in pain or losing consciousness without a sound. Nothing comes though, only flashes from the fight between him and the girl, the rumbling sound of Starkiller dying beneath his feet and pain, omnipresent pain. Kylo recalls his wounds for the first time. 

He raises a hand to his face and finds his nose, feeling around the root. There’s a part of it that doesn’t respond to his touch and is rough under his fingers. He moves along it onto his cheek and tries to imagine it. 

“Here you go,” the medic says and hands him a pair of briefs from the same material as his gown, “just call me when you’re ready.”

Kylo turns to the side and lets his legs down off the bed. He puts his feet into the holes in the briefs and pulls it up. He stands up to adjust it. He’s tempted to lift the gown further and inspect the wound left by Chewbacca’s bowcaster but he doesn’t dare.

“I’m ready,” he says, softly, afraid to be loud in a medbay. 

“Okay,” she turns around, “sit down please.” 

She asks him to hold his gown up as she places the stethoscope on various places on his chest and instructs him how he should breathe. He doesn’t look at his stomach, staring at the top of the doctor’s head. 

“Okay, I think you’re alright,” she smiles and sits back on the chair, “you’re all good to go. But before you do, I’d like to discuss one thing with you. You said you remember a fight, correct?”

“Are you trying to considerately tell me about the scar on my face?”

“Yes. Not only your face, but I suppose that one is the worst.”

“Can I see it?” Kylo asks, in an oddly strained voice. She nods and pulls a little mirror out of a pocket on her breast. She hands it to him without a word. 

It’s even worse than Kylo’s tactile search suggested. It bisects his nose and his face, getting wider as it nears his jaw. Kylo touches his shoulder absent-mindedly, feeling the same scarred tissue under his fingers. 

“I wanted to tell you about the possibilities of cosmetic surgery to get it removed,” the medic  offers, “it wouldn’t look the same way it did before but we could improve it.”

“No, thank you,” Kylo hands her the mirror back, “I’ll keep it.”

“It’s not a dangerous intervention.”

“I’m not afraid. Thank you for the offer, doctor, but I’d prefer to keep it.”

“As you wish,” she nods, obviously unused to such a reaction. 

“May I go now?” 

“Yes. Tell the nurse at the reception desk to give you your things back, although there aren’t many of them left intact.”

“Thank you,” Kylo says and stands up. He straightens the blanket on the bed absentmindedly. Hux hates messy beds and Kylo got used to doing things to please Hux. 

“You’re welcome,” the medic says, “you can come back any time if you change your mind.”

“Alright. Thank you, doctor.”

Kylo picks up his tattered clothes at the reception. He puts on his socks, boots, leggings and the short top he wears underneath his robes. He feels naked, but the rest is ruined. He’ll have to walk fast. 

This time, he can’t avoid the scar on his stomach. It’s big and ugly, almost aggressively red. Kylo feels a surge of emotions rise into his throat as he recalls how it happened. He pushes it aside, concentrating on each step, on the interstices on the floor, on spots and fissures, his eyes bulged as he tries to focus them more on the material things around him and push aside his emotions. 

When he reaches his quarters, he hits the keypad automatically as tears well up in his eyes. He makes his way to his bed and falls onto it, sobbing violently. He curls up into a ball to stop the pain in his stomach and chest, as if treating it like a physical wound could help.  

_ I know what I have to do but I don’t know if I have the strength to do it.  _ He was lying. He’s always been lying to his father. He had no idea what he should do. It was a cry for help to the Force, a desperate need for guidance.  _ Will you help me?  _

He can still see the shock in his father’s eyes, the betrayal and the pain. The wound in his side flares up and he hears Chewbacca’s pained roar, smells charred meat, and his vision blurs. Kylo clutches his thighs closer to his chest to close the hole in it. 

The rest of his memory is hazy and fragmentary, but all the little pixels come together when Hux comes to his rescue when all seems lost. Kylo feels joy bubbling up in his stomach, the proverbial butterflies tickling his insides, and he feels profound, visceral calm. If Hux is with him, everything is fine.  _ Don’t you die on me, Ren. I love you.  _ Kylo thinks this is just a product of his wishful thinking but he doesn’t mind. The memory ends there anyway. 

Hux. 

Hux came back for him and now he’s paralyzed. Kylo didn’t dare ask how high Hux’s spinal cord got severed, but all damage to Hux that’s Kylo’s fault is unacceptable. Kylo only dared enter a relationship with Hux because he deemed him strong enough, unbreakable enough to handle the mess that’s Kylo Ren. Hux looked like a safe haven, like someone Kylo could be himself with and not fear ruining him. But he was wrong. He’s always wrong, but he hoped at least this once he might be right. 

He wants to see Hux and dreads it at the same time. He wants to see how bad it is, but he doesn’t think he could take seeing the hatred in Hux’s eyes. Because Hux must hate him. He tolerated him before if Kylo stayed out of his way and gave him a good fuck whenever he wanted. But now? Kylo wails and sobs again. He rolls onto his right side and cries himself to sleep.

…

Hux views the CMO’s message for what feels like the hundredth time. The time stamp beside the message reads 2 days ago. 

_ Kylo Ren woke up today. He’s alright but he’ll have scars. We released him a moment ago. He asked about you. _

Hux has been pondering the last sentence for the whole two days. He expected Ren to come take a look at him, to see for himself how bad his injury is. But Ren didn’t turn up. Hux can’t say he blames him, and tries to convince himself that he doesn’t care. But he does. He thought what was between them was more profound than sex after a long shift, that Ren would at least come break up with him now that he’s a cripple. 

In the first hours after the shock of losing control over his legs, Hux kept searching for someone to blame. He wanted to hate Ren, but that wouldn’t be fair. Snoke sent him to find him, and Hux himself was cocky - or sentimental - enough to go alone. No; what Hux did feel for Ren wasn’t hatred, it was longing, and affection. Hux wanted Ren to come and visit, and he was hurt rather than mad when Ren didn’t break the silence between them. 

Hux startles as his comm beeps with a new message. He opens it and inhales sharply, his heart skipping. Ren’s messages are highlighted red for priority, something Hux set a while ago out of sentiment after a good fuck, and kept it.

_ Can I come see you? _

Hux’s first impulse is to agree, to write down all his desperate feelings of rejection, his fears, his pain. Then he considers it and wants to say no, to show Ren what it’s like to want to see someone but being denied. At last, he settles for the happy medium and sends Ren a simple  _ Yes. _

Ren is requesting entrance at his quarters sooner than the way from his own would last; he must have been already on his way when he sent the message. Hux isn’t sure how he feels about that. He grants him access and moves behind the table to hide the wheelchair from Ren’s view. He shouldn’t, perhaps, but he wants to spare Ren the shock. Ever so considerate of his lover, who came to break things up between them. 

Ren steps into the room and stops there, watching Hux. They look into each other’s eyes for long seconds before Ren dares come closer, his steps light and easy. Hux envies him silently before he catches himself.

“Hux,” Ren says at last. It’s the first word between them in almost a week, first word after so much happened between them, and it’s a single syllable. Hux wants to laugh. 

“Ren,” he replies. He wanted it to sound like mockery but it came out more like a plea. He frowns. “Have you come take a look at the circus freak?”

“I came to look at my- at you.”

Hux wonders what Ren was going to say before he stopped himself. Lover? Fuck buddy? 

“Well here I am.”

Ren is standing at the opposite side of the table. He’s not wearing his heavy armour or his mask, lost to the collapse of Starkiller. Hux is glad at least something good came out of it. He focuses on the scar. It doesn’t look bad - quite the contrary. It gives Ren’s asymmetrical face the finishing touch it needed to look interesting rather than mismatched and weird. 

“How are you?” 

Hux does laugh then. He doesn't think Ren has ever asked something so trivial, so meaningless. Their encounters had a set routine - Ren came into his quarters, stripped unceremoniously and climbed on Hux’s bed, begging to be fucked. Hux never dared disrupt the algorithm, fearing Ren might laugh at him if he dared suggest  _ making love _ , both of them undressed and caring for each other rather than getting off as fast as possible. They hardly ever spoke, thinking it too dangerous to the fragile equilibrium between them. 

“What do you want to hear?” Hux asks, a little harshly. Ren must be mocking him. They don't ask about each other's day or feelings. Whenever Ren came to his room, he wanted sex. What was he expecting now? A blowjob? 

“The truth,” Ren replies, a little taken aback, “I want to know how you feel.”

“I'm feeling like shit, thanks for asking,” Hux snaps back, “have you seen enough or do you want to see the wheelchair?”

Ren startles and his expression hardens. Good. Hatred, that Hux can do. The strange wistfulness, not so much. 

“I'm sorry you-”

“Don't,” Hux cuts him off sharply, “don't you dare say you're sorry. I don't want your pity. It was my decision to come for you, and I stand by it.”

_ “ _ I don't pity you,” Ren lies.

“I can see it in your eyes, and the curiosity. You’re wondering if you could stick a knife into my thigh and make me bleed out without me feeling it.” 

“What do you want from me?” 

Ren clutches his fists and clenches his jaw, an expression Hux is all too familiar with. The thing is, usually he knows what aggravated Ren. This time, he doesn’t understand - Ren is a mess of mixed signals and contradictions. He thinks about the question instead - what _ does _ he want from Ren?  _ Love,  _ he thinks immediately,  _ affection. For you to show that you care.  _ Except, Ren doesn’t care. He doesn’t love him. Or at least so Hux thought. He’s not so sure now when he sees Ren’s reaction. 

“I want you,” Hux says quietly. He doesn’t look up at Ren, to spare himself the derision in his face. Ren doesn’t laugh, or say something sarcastic. Hux sneaks a peek and his heart skips a beat when he sees a palette of emotions play out on Ren’s face. He’s encouraged by it, and dares finish the sentence. “I think I love you.”

Ren gasps, then lets out a quiet wail. He bends over the table and pulls Hux in for a kiss. His hands are desperate but gentle, and Hux feels warm and safe.

“I love you too,” Ren breathes out when they part, breathless, “stars, Hux, I thought you’d never want to see me again.”

“I got injured saving you. Wouldn’t it be stupid not to see you afterwards?” 

“I guess you’re right,” Ren shrugs, and Hux can see him swallow the  _ I’m sorry  _ crawling on his tongue again. “How can I help you?” 

Hux smiles and invites Ren to sit on his bed. They’ll need to talk about a lot of things, and overcome many obstacles, but Hux has already gained an ally he didn’t expect. He’ll pull through and deal with this, because what else can he do? He’s sacrificed too much to stop now.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come say hi on tumblr](http://ellstra.tumblr.com/)


End file.
